Cry of the Lost
by LifexSins
Summary: The Dark Lord and his followers are abducting children, giving them a choice of conversion or death. When little Gabrielle Delacour goes missing, Fleur makes a drastic change.
1. Children of the Dark Lord

Chapter One

Children of the Dark Lord

Darkness was the only thing the young boy saw as he opened his eyes. There was nothing he could really make out except for what looked like several forms before him. As his vision became clearer, he began to see their figures and hear their voices. They were all black-cloaked with pointy hoods and wore masks, hiding their upper faces from his watchful eyes. None of them were paying any attention to him and were engaged in conversations with each other.

He struggled to move but found his arms and legs tightly tied to the base of a tree. Wherever he was at was unrecognizable to him and made him feel even colder than the chilly breeze that blew through the area. There wasn't much to see due to the thick fog surrounding the place, but it looked like some kind of meadow buried in a forest. Large bundles of trees formed a circle around the foggy field, keeping the small area secluded from the dense forest.

One of the cloaked figures took notice to his trying to get loose and stalked over to him, staring into his lost and confused eyes. Long black hair rested over her cloak as she wore a seductive smile on her face, the only features he could see of her. Placing her hand on his cheek, she began to caress it, making the boy feel comfortable for once.

"You're very special, child," she whispered to him. "You have been given the honor of being chosen by him. Not many children have been able to join him at such a young age, but you, my dear, are particularly gifted with the art, and he does not want you to waste your ability. None of us do."

"Who… who's he?" the child asked, his voice trembling from both fear and the cold.

"You'll meet him soon enough," she smiled grimly.

As the woman pulled her hand off his cheek, he noticed a strange marking on her arm, one of the kinds he had seen his father watching on the news. It belonged to bad people and as he took a second look at the woman, he had no doubt what side she was on.

"Lestrange," a voice called from a group of the strangers.

The woman took one last look at the boy before heading over to the five cloaked people and began forming a line with them. The six figures kneeled in unison, lowering their heads in respect to the form emerging from the fog. The boy watched confused for a few moments, unsure of whom or what this figure was as he could only see a shadow. No matter what was going on, he didn't like it. Things were way too scary and he felt that those were the bad people the news were always talking about.

The dark figure drew closer until the child could make him out. Like the others, he wore a black cloak but without a hood. His skin tone was pale making the mysterious man look rather dead. His dark eyes and nose were buried into his face giving it hardly any shape. The man stopped before the kneeling group, waving his hand. Simultaneously, they all rose, standing straight and tall in the face of the strange man.

"You have the boy?" the pale man asked the woman who had just spoken to him.

"Yes, my lord," Lestrange replied, turning out of line to face to young boy. "We have him there."

With a wave of the man's wand, the ropes around the boy burnt away, sending him falling to the ground. The child didn't know if he should take that as help or hostility, and as the man approached him, wondered if he was about to die.

He stood over the young boy, watching him tremble at his sinister presence. A smile crept across his face as Bellatrix Lestrange walked to his side.

"He is the one, then?" he asked her.

"Trevor Fudge, five year old son of the ex-minister himself," Bellatrix answered watching the boy's face grow after hearing his name. "Picked him clean out of his room and the pathetic man didn't even catch us or was either too cowardly to try."

"What do you want?" the boy screamed, interrupting their conversation.

Both turned to him, their eyes lighting up at his small, weak form. The man bent over the small boy, watching him crawl backwards in fear.

"Do you know who I am, Trevor?" he asked, watching the boy shake his head. "Oh, well, I'm sure you know of me. You see, I'm a very misunderstood person among your people. I have several names you may know of, so let me see there's He Who Must Not Be Named and He Who We Do Not Speak Of and all those other callings, but as far as you're concerned my name is Lord Voldemort!"

A cry of fear erupted from Trevor's mouth, as he started to get up and run. Regardless of his determination to escape, he felt his legs lock as he fell to the ground, looking back to see Lestrange's wand pointed at him.

"Why leave so soon, child?" she laughed. "Master has a gift for you."

With a swish of her wand, the boy slid through the grass towards them, stopping right at their feet. Tears were flowing rapidly out of his eyes, yet the two figures above him showed no sympathy.

"Listen here, boy," Voldemort spoke loudly. "You're going to make a choice tonight, and if you answer my question right, you will get the prize of a lifetime. Answer wrong, and you will never see the morning of tomorrow. Do you understand?"

The boy broke into even more tears, before being met by a searing pain in his head. Bellatrix forced her wand at him, showing as much mercy as she would to an auror. The pain only made the boy cry harder and hold on to his aching head.

"No death eater of mine shall cry!" Voldemort scolded. "You will stop this or she will go on until your worthless life has ended!"

As hard as it was, the boy's crying halted. Bellatrix seemed disappointed to pull away the wand, but let it fall to her side at her master's command.

"Trevor," Voldemort began. "You're getting the opportunity tonight that will change your life forever. Not many are selected to join my ranks, as I only seek loyal, skilled fighters wanting real justice in this world. Tonight, however, you are being given the choice to be trained by the best. By doing this, you will become one of the most powerful wizards this world will have ever seen."

"But… but Daddy says you guys are…"

"Your coward father doesn't know a goddamn thing about us!" Bellatrix shot at him. "You head what would happen to you if you answered the question wrong!"

"Wha… what is the question?"

Bellatrix through her hands up and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Master, do we need a child in our ranks as stupid as this one?"

"He will have another purpose if he does not follow," the Dark Lord smiled at his follower. "Child, I have explained myself enough. Do you wish to be trained or do you wish to die."

"But I don't want to be one of you!" he cried. "Daddy says…"

"Answer the question!" Bellatrix roared.

"I don't wanna…"

"There! He answered!" Lestrange informed her master.

A large smile crept across Voldemort's face as he placed the tip of his wand against the child's temple. A burst of green light lit up the woods that morning, sending masses of birds flying out of trees. Trevor's eyes went blank as his lifeless body lay in the grassy meadow, surrounded by the followers of the Dark Lord.

"Mr. Fudge, will find this rather tragic," Voldemort smiled.


	2. Breaking Down

Chapter Two  
Breaking Down

The silver-haired girl walked down the dark country road, finally being able to get back home from work in the early hours of morning. Previously moving to London from France for job purposes, Fleur Delacour had become adjusted easily, perfecting her English almost as faultless as the next person. She was in a rush however, not having been home the previous night, leaving her kid sister to take care of herself. Unfortunately, that was the way things had been lately.

With a wave of her wand, the door unlocked as she went in and headed up the flight of stairs. She cracked open one of the doors to see a small figure, fast asleep in the bed, tightly hugging a pillow against her chest. Carefully, not to wake her too abruptly, Fleur crawled onto her bed, gently shaking the girl's shoulder.

"Gabby."

The young Delacour lazily opened her eyes to see her sister on top of her, looking even more tired than she was. Her long, silver hair was not in any way as elegant as it normally was. The areas around her exhausted eyes were dark from the lack of sleep. She'd been wearing the same jeans and jacket for the last three days. Fleur looked a mess and had appeared the same for what seemed like forever. Sleepless nights had taken their affect on her.

"You didn't get any sleep last night, did you?" Gabrielle glared at her sister. "You know, I'm the thirteen year old so you should be the one looking after me, not the other way around. Ever since we moved here, you've been losing it with this auror stuff."

Fleur lowered her head, knowing it was all true. She was being a terrible sister. In fact, she'd barely seen any of Gabrielle in the past few days due to all the trouble going on with the ministry. Aurors were working to the extremes these days, risking their lives every night of the job. In that one week, four aurors had lost their lives, all rumored to be at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"I'm sorry, Gabs," Fleur apologized. "Today's going to be better though. Alastor gave me the day off, said he couldn't stand to see me like this anymore."

"And neither can I," Gabrielle stared angrily. "So you're going to spend today sleeping."

"I just moved out of dad's, but yet he's coming out through you," Fleur laughed but noticed her sister's look remain serious. "Gabby, I'll be fine. Work's just a little crazy right now, but it'll be back to normal soon."

"Really, Fleur, do you mean soon as in next week or as in when the death eaters stop killing people?" the young Delacour crossed her arms. "Sometimes I just wish..."

Gabrielle's voice trailed off and the small child broke into tears, covering her face with her hands and collapsing down on the bed. Fleur felt heartbroken, knowing all of this was her fault. She lay down over her sister and wrapped her arms tightly around her waist, softly kissing her face several times.

"I just wish you weren't an auror," Gabrielle finished, her voice choking as she spoke. "I have heard about what happened to those aurors, you know. I see those scars that weren't there when I saw you last along with your clothes red from the blood that's not your own, and I get scared. When you don't come home some nights, I can't help but think you might be..."

Fleur took her baby sister in her arms, holding her small form tightly against her chest as she sobbed. She winced at the feeling of Gabrielle's nails in her back, as if the girl was holding on to her for dear life. Gently, she stroked her beautiful, silver hair, feeling like crying herself, but found she had simply no more tears left, all shed the following week for her fellow aurors.

"Things do get a little nasty sometimes, but I'll always comeback, Gabs," Fleur pulled apart from the young girl, locking eyes with her. "There's nothing to worry about. I promise."

"I wish I could believe you," Gabrielle sighed before getting out of bed and heading for the door. She turned around and looked at Fleur before leaving. "I just hope one day, I can see my sister again."

The remark hit Fleur hard like a blow to the head, as she watched Gabrielle leave the room, head lowered. It had just then occurred to Fleur how much of an effect she was having on her Gabrielle and how much she had her frightened. Chasing after her would be pointless since it was obvious the kid didn't want to be followed. Just now realizing exactly how tired she was, Fleur grabbed the pillow her sister had been sleeping with and held it against her, quickly falling asleep for her first time in three days soon after.

Gabrielle sat in a corner of the room downstairs, head buried in her knees, while tears flowed like waterfalls from her eyes. Even when she was awake, the nightmares still haunted her. Every night the same one would replay itself, the one of Fleur and the other aurors in the middle of a foggy field facing the masked devils she'd come to know as death eaters. The image of the raven-haired woman's wand sending out a wave of green light that collided with Fleur's chest. Her sister's eyes would grow lifeless as her body fell to the ground, never to get up again.

If Fleur had ever been there at night, she would know about her sister's nightmares and how she would awake screaming and crying, but Fleur was never there, leaving poor Gabrielle to wake up cold and alone. After staying downstairs long enough, she realized that Fleur was actually home and safe, and thinking of how ridiculous she had acted, went back upstairs. There her older sister lay, asleep in the bed like nothing was wrong. Gabrielle crawled in next to her, burying her face into Fleur's shoulder before falling asleep along with her, hoping tonight that the nightmares wouldn't come. 


End file.
